Title: Something Else Entirely
Author: Cntrlphreak
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Warning: incest, underage

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Fifteen year old Sam slammed the door when he got to their latest motel room. He was pissed and he wanted everyone to know it, the typical teenager. Glancing at Dean who was sitting on one of the beds he muttered, "Hey," dropping his book bag then stalked into the bathroom. 'It is so damn unfair!' he thought as he finished peeing and washed his hands. Being the perpetual new student everywhere they went was wearing thin on the freshman Sam. He had just found out that one of the four papers for his English was due in two weeks, which would not have been so bad except for the fact that he was a month behind everyone else. The other students got four weeks, he got two.

Back in the main room he asked his older brother, "How much money do we have, Dean? I'm starved." Looking in the tiny fridge all he found was a half a six pack and two slices of cheese. Grabbing one of the slices he flopped down on the bed next to Dean. Realizing Dean had not said one word, Sam turned and stared wondering if his brother was sick. "Dude, are you alright?" In fact Dean was sweaty and pale, shifting uncomfortably on the bed. He had two broken arms from their last hunt, a very nasty poltergeist, so he was stuck in the motel until the casts were off.

"I'm fine," Dean said painfully, totally unconvincing not looking at his younger brother. Concerned, Sam dropped the cheese on the night stand and reached to feel if Dean had a fever. "Back off," was all Dean had said, his voice shaking along with his body.

Frustrated Sam went to get Dean some water saying, "Dean you are not fine, I need to check if you have a fever. You know what they said ..."

"Sam. I do not have a fever, I'm fine, really, I just need you to leave me alone," Dean was panting with effort to finish his sentence. "The money is by the coffee maker, go get us something," finally answering of Sam's question.

Sam replaced the water glass on the night stand and spoke, "Dean, I am not going to leave you while you are like this. It could be some secondary infection or..." Sam's rush of words were cut off by Dean's yell.

"Sam, please! I just need you to leave me alone and I mean leave here. Please Sam," he ended with a near whisper, looking desperate.

Sam's concern was replaced by determination as he sat on the other bed staring at his stubborn brother. Well he could be just as stubborn, he could wait it out.

They stared at each other for nearly five minutes until Dean broke contact shifting uncomfortably on the bed. "Dude, please just leave. I need to be alone," he was nearly pleading, so unlike the big brother Sam knew. Something must be wrong, seriously wrong. Sam grew worried questioning, "I can't leave you by yourself when you are clearly hurting. What can I do to help? Should I call Dad?"

"No! No, it is nothing like that. Sam believe me when I tell you this, there is nothing you can do for me. And do not call Dad," Dean implored looking appalled.

Sam could not believe his ears, Dean did not want him to call Dad? What was up with that? He could not help? That was the last straw, Sam demanded, "Dean what is the matter with you? I am not leaving until you tell me." He set he jaw willing his brother to speak crossing his arms over his chest.

"Damn it Sam," Dean was nearly give out, "Why can't you do this one thing for me? Huh?" Seeing that Sam was not going to give up, Dean spoke in a rush, "Fuck it, if you have to know, here, this is what is wrong." He pulled back the covers and showed Sam the problem.

Sam nearly fell out when the saw what Dean was indicating. Things finally clicked into place when the glanced at the TV he had been ignoring. Baywatch was on and Pamela Anderson was bouncing on the screen. Something was wrong but it was something else entirely. Sam nearly laughed himself silly falling to the floor.

"Dude, it's not funny." Sam barely heard the words as he struggled to catch his breath. Wiping the tears from his eyes Sam climbed back on the bed and asked, "Dean, what is your problem?"

"Fuck you, Sam," Dean would have crossed his arms at his declaration but his casts got in the way. As it was he let his arms fall to his sides and stared daggers into his younger brother. When Sam had calmed down enough to see that Dean was still in pain, "What is the problem? You seem to have the right stimulus for the job," he sputtered the last part out dissolving into laughter again.

"That is the problem. All three fucking channels we get are showing the same shit and this happened last episode and I can't do anything about it," Dean let it out in a rush, his body flush with embarrassment.

"What do you mean you can't? You have two hands, Dean... oh," by the time Sam got the words out he realized what the real problem was. The casts allowed for minimal function and movement, but for something that need a little more finesse they were a hindrance.

Dean became a deeper shade of red, if at all possible, and looked away. "Why did you not turn the TV off? Cold shower?"

Dean responded nearly growling, "I could not turn off the fucking TV because I lost the remote and the damn button the that shitty TV is broken. And, duh, I can't get these wet." Holding up his casts he had hoped that all this anger and talking with his brother would have lessened the problem. But for some damned reason, the situation remained the same.

"Dean, you know you could have unplugged it. I could go get you some ice..." Sam's voice trailed off at the look on Dean's face. Changing tactics Sam offered, "You can wait until it goes away on its own or I could do you." He blushed at his own words, what was he thinking?

"Dude, it's been an hour and... What!" Dean gasped leaning back to look at Sam.

Trying to act nonchalant Sam explained, "If you want, I could do it for you. It's no big deal, like doing it on myself. I mean, it is not like it would take that long, right?"

Dean looked at Sam as if he had grew another head, "Sam, do you know what you are saying?"

Sam stopped him before he could think about it any longer, "Dean, it's not like I want to or anything, I am just offering, one time, it's nothing."

"You have got to be kidding me," said Dean though he was so desperate that he considered. 'why has it not gone away? that offer alone should have done something. i mean, come on my little brother just offered to give me a hand job. damn it,' after debating and the fact that his dick hurt bad he accepted. He was so embarrassed that humiliation did not seen that much more to bare. "Fine, but no talking."

Sam blinked realizing that his older brother had actually accepted his offer then answered, "Fine." Getting on the bed he sat next to Dean on his right side, because he was a lefty when it came to this, and wondered what to do first.

Sam nearly jumped when Dean spoke, "You got to pull them down." Sam blinked again finally understanding. 'This is nothing I have not seen before, no big deal,' he thought remembering all the times they dressed together and had to patch up one another. This was not his first time to see Dean's dick, just the first time to see it hard. Carefully as he could he pushed Dean's boxer briefs down and tried not to stare at the huge dick laying on Dean's thigh.

Dean jumped when Sam took hold, "Damn, you could have warmed that up first." Sam blushed again, then started to awkwardly stroke his brother. He was thinking about how he did himself and attempted to mimic that here. It was no an easy task, Dean kept barking orders as him, complaining about one thing then another. Too soft, too hard, too fast, too slow, he thought since Dean had this for just over an hour that he would come fast, but Sam was wrong. It took nearly twenty minutes until Dean ejaculated all over himself, Sam, and the bed, shuttering with relief.

Sam had his eyes closed almost the entire time so he did not see when Dean came but he heard it. The noises Dean made were interesting to say the least. For the most part they were similar to the ones Sam made yet there was a quality to them that went straight to his groin and he was confused at the sensation.

With a final sigh, Dean breathed, "Thanks Sam, I owe you one," and fell back against the headboard, exhausted.

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End

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